Another day passed beneath gray morning skies.
At the Morgan family residence, the atmosphere was anything but warm.
Finley Morgan had barely stepped through the living room when his father’s sharp gaze pinned him in place.
The look carried years of authority, impatience, and disappointnt all at once.
Finley forced a polite smile and leaned down to hug his grandfather first. "Grandpa. It’s good to see you."
Old Nicholas patted his back fondly before Finley turned toward his father and sat across from him.
"Father, I’m sorry," Finley said. "I only just found ti to visit."
"I understand that you can not co often..." Theodor Morgan’s jaw tightened. "But tell this... why does your secretary answer every ti I call you? Are you truly so busy that you can’t pick up your father’s calls yourself?"
Finley exhaled slowly.
"I don’t ignore you, Dad. You call when I’m in etings. If I answered every ti, the board would replace with soone else... They won’t support ."
Theodor’s eyes narrowed, unimpressed.
Before the tension could sharpen further, Old Nicholas tapped his cane lightly against the floor.
"Enough, Theo," he said.
Theodor turned toward his father, irritation flickering before he sighed.
"What I an is that Finley finally ca despite his schedule. That is what matters," Nicholas said with his calm tone.
Finley smiled faintly, grateful for the rescue. "Thank you, grandpa..." he said without a sound, but his thumb slowly rose to give a thumbs-up.
However, Theodor was not done.
"Now," he said, eyes narrowed sharply on Finley, "Tell why Evelyn cannot be contacted. I have called her phone many tis. No ringing. No response to my texts. Is she alright?" He asked.
The question was enough to stun Finley, and he couldn’t help but smile.
He had planned to wait. To give Evelyn ti to heal. To avoid shocking his grandparents’ fragile hearts. To prevent his father from storming across the city demanding answers. But his father’s impatience had cornered him.
"Father..." Finley hesitated. "Eve is injured—"
"What?!" Theodor shot up from his seat, eyes wide.
"Injured? What injury?" Nicholas’s voice rose too, his old hands gripping the arms of his chair, his face instantly pale. "Is she alright?" he asked, his voice trembling.
Finley’s heart lurched. He rushed to his grandfather’s side. "Grandpa, are you okay? Let call your doctor—"
"No. No." Nicholas waved him off, though his breathing was strained. After a mont, he steadied himself, inhaling carefully until his voice returned. "I am fine. I’m fine. Now tell . What happened to Eve? Why is she unreachable?"
Finley knelt beside him, taking the old man’s hand and patting it gently.
"After Evelyn left this house," Finley began, keeping his voice calm, "she was in a car accident. She sustained serious injuries. But she is healing now. She is safe."
Silence struck.
Then—
"Finley, you brat!" Theodor’s voice thundered in the living room.
Finley turned, startled.
"How could you not tell ?" Theodor snapped. "Am I not your father? Do you forget that Evelyn is my grand-niece? I have the right to know when sothing happens to our family!"
Finley held his ground, though his expression tightened. "I wanted to wait until she recovered. I didn’t want Grandpa to worry. And I didn’t want you to march into her hospital room, interrogating doctors like a police inspector."
Theodor opened his mouth, then closed it, because unfortunately, Finley was absolutely correct.
Nicholas lifted a hand again.
"Theo," he said firmly, "don’t bla the boy. Let him speak."
Theodor exhaled sharply, though his expression remained stormy.
Nicholas looked at Finley, eyes softer now, though still filled with concern. "Return to your seat, Finley. Tell us everything. From the beginning."
Finley nodded and moved back to his chair. He folded his hands, choosing his words carefully.
He explained the accident. The ergency. The surgery. The long days in the ho hospital. And, he told them Evelyn was now back ho, healing under careful watch.
But, he did not ntion assassins, conspiracies, or vengeance. So truths were not yet ready for aging hearts.
By the ti he finished, the room was quiet again.
Theodor rubbed his temples, frustration mixing with guilt.
Nicholas simply closed his eyes for a long mont. "Thank heaven Evelyn survived," he whispered, voice thick with emotion. "Finley, call her husband. I want to visit them."
Theodor’s stern face lit up with sudden agreent, his earlier anger instantly redirected into enthusiasm. "Yes, yes. Hurry and call. Ask if we can visit them today," he ordered, already imagining himself eting Evelyn and her son.
Finley stared at them both. He loved his family, truly he did, but sotis their ability to make decisions without consulting reality was breathtaking.
Even so, one look at his grandfather’s hopeful eyes and his father’s stubborn expression told him refusal was not an option.
"Alright, I’ll call," Finley said with a resigned sigh. "But please don’t expect to visit today. This is sudden. They need ti to prepare."
"No need to worry," Theodor waved a dismissive hand. "Just tell them I am coming personally. Along with your grandfather. I believe Evelyn and Axel will be delighted."
Finley doubted that very much. But arguing with Theodor Morgan was like wrestling a pig on a mountain, dirty and terribly unpleasant.
He excused himself quickly and walked toward the quieter corner of the house, far enough that no one could hover over his shoulder to interrupt. Pulling out his phone, he dialed Axel’s number.
Two rings later, a familiar calm voice answered. "Sir, it’s an honor to receive your call this weekend."
Finley nearly laughed at Axel Knight’s respectful tone toward him. "Drop the formality, Axel," he said lightly. "How’s Eve’s condition?"
"She’s recovering well," Axel replied. "She’s ho now. No longer staying in the clinic."
A relieved breath escaped Finley. "That’s good to hear." Then he got to the point before his courage fled. "The elders finally found out about her condition. They want to visit. Today. Can they?"
There was no hesitation.
"Sure," Axel said smoothly. "She’ll be happy to et them."
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